Between Hate and Love
by ILoveWingsAndPatrick
Summary: Too little was said in their time together, and too much unspoken. Of course he would only realize that after she died.


**Between Hate and Love**

Marvel had never been _that _guy. The guy that all the girls fawn over, the guy that could sweep any woman off her feet with just one smile, one _glance. _No, without a doubt, Marvel was not _that _guy.

But she had always been _that _girl. At least for him. She had always been the only one able to amaze him with her beauty and talent. And she damn well knew it.

Without directly speaking to him, Glimmer knew exactly how to make Marvel stop and stare, without any regard to his trainer, who was furiously trying to get his attention back to spears.

She would flip her luscious golden hair over her shoulder, slowly stretch her face into a dazzling smile, and pull the bow back with grace and ease. Then, she would let go of the arrow, and it would fly effortlessly into the air and hit her target with a satisfying thud.

He could never get enough of her.

It wasn't a secret, the fact that Marvel adored Glimmer; in fact, it was really hard _not _to. She was one of the most desired objects in District 1, and everyone wanted to be connected with her in some way. Marvel just happened to be her best friend.

Glimmer walked over to Marvel, smirking as she saw his slack stance, even though he was supposed to be training.

"So, what did you think?" she asked, her airy voice completely free of the malice it usually held.

"I think Silk needs to keep a better eye on you," Marvel replied, referring to Glimmer's long-time boyfriend, Silk. Silk was _that _guy, the guy that currently had his clutches on Glimmer, who in Marvel's opinion, deserved much better.

"I meant my training, idiot. You _know _that I'm planning to volunteer this year." He shrugged, hopefully not giving too much away. _He _had been planning to volunteer this year, because he knew he could do it. He knew he could win. And maybe, just maybe, if she saw him volunteer and stand up on that stage, she wouldn't volunteer. And he could win the Games for her, and live happily ever after.

Well, he wasn't that sappy, but his life plan was undecided as to what would happen after he won the Games. After all, what if Glimmer still didn't like him? Or worse, what if she still volunteered?

_Don't think like that, _Marvel thought to himself, hoping that it wouldn't come down to him and Glimmer standing on that stage in front of the entire District.

"Marvel? You there?" Glimmer asked, waving her hand impatiently in front of his face. He snapped back to reality and shrugged.

"It was okay," he said, hoping to deflate her ego and have her reassess volunteering for the Games.

But she simply rolled her eyes and stated, "It was more than 'okay,' it was brilliant. I hit the target dead center." Annoyed, she walked away, wondering what was going on. Marvel usually showered her with praises, which was why she liked having him around so much.

Marvel watched as she left, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't make the mistake of her life.

The world hated him. He was sure of it as soon as Glimmer stepped on stage alongside him, smiling and waving like it was such an honor to be there. He glanced once at her from the corner of his eye, but she still had that 100 watt smile on her face.

Although he was angry beyond belief, Marvel followed her example and smiled at the crowd, because he should be happy he was going to the Games.

He would have been a lot happier if she wasn't there.

After the busy train ride from District 1 to the Capitol, the pain received from the Remake Center, and the disastrous tribute parade, Glimmer and Marvel finally had the penthouse to themselves, with Gloss and Cashmere already sleeping in their rooms.

"Why are you here, Marvel?" Glimmer whispered angrily, while the reruns of previous Games flashed on the TV in the background.

"I volunteered." Marvel said simply, eyes glued to screen, although he wasn't actually watching it. He didn't even want to look at her.

"You _knew _I was going to volunteer! This was supposed to be _my _year! You're ruining it!" she whined, her face contorting into desperation.

Didn't she _know? _She had to know why he would volunteer! She had to be feigning the stupidity that he was hearing right now.

He abruptly turned to her, his emotionless mask gone, rage taking over.

"Oh don't act so _stupid_, Glimmer," he snarled, TV forgotten. "You know why I volunteered for the Games. I just didn't think you hated me that much that you had to volunteer too."

She was surprised, but it was quickly overcome by anger. _"Hate _you? I told you I was volunteering _weeks _ago, and you never told me _you_ had plans to volunteer! _You're _the stupid one!"

He shook his head, his mouth still grimacing as he looked at her. "You just don't get it, do you?" When she didn't answer, he continued. "I _like _you, Glimmer. Okay? We've both known that for a long time. But you deliberately go out with Silk, practically shoving him in my face! You know when I made plans to volunteer? _Months _ago, Glimmer. _Months. _So don't blame this on me. I thought you would have cared enough that you wouldn't volunteer, but I guess I overestimated your brain power!"

"Is everything okay in here?" Gloss was standing in the doorway in his pajamas, watching the two argue.

"We're fine," Marvel muttered before standing up and quickly walking to his room, careful not to slam the door.

"I don't hate you," Glimmer said quietly, after Marvel stomped off to his room and Gloss confusedly headed back to his own sleeping quarters.

Oh, for the love of God, she really did hate him. First Silk, now Cato.

Marvel threw another spear at the dummy, hitting it directly in the center. He wasted no time admiring the length at which he had thrown it, and instead picked up another spear, moving on the next target.

Glimmer flirted with Cato nonstop, and Marvel could tell he wasn't the only one who was less than enthusiastic.

Clove, Cato's district partner, gave Glimmer death looks before throwing her knives in rapid succession, each hitting the target perfectly. Although Marvel was less that tempted to make friends with her, he understood how she felt, and could not deny that sending Glimmer nasty looks was appealing.

Cato, with his stupid swords, his cocky smirk and his suggestive glances made Marvel more than mad. Not just at Cato, but with Glimmer as well. And then she had the gall to be surprised that Marvel thought she hated him!

And Cato, the perfect example of _that _guy, the perfect example for someone Marvel would kill in a heartbeat. Too bad he was a massive monster who was also the unspoken leader of the Careers. It would take some careful planning to kill him, or maybe he would get lucky and someone else would kill him off, like that District 11 male.

Even before the interviews, Marvel ignored Glimmer. After their second day of training, she stopped talking to him too, realizing that she wouldn't get an answer from him. This was for the better, Marvel thought, knowing at one point or another, one of them would die.

But when they were in the arena, slashing tributes at the Cornucopia, he couldn't help but be relieved when she was one of the few still standing. That relief quickly died when Cato handed her his sword to kill that girl from District 8. Days passed, and Marvel had no choice to ignore the fact that every night, Glimmer slept closer Cato than anyone else.

And then the fire. The fire that brought them so close to the Girl on Fire, yet so far. Up in the tree, she might as well have been across the arena. So they camped out at the bottom of the tree, and waited.

Marvel hated the waiting game. He was a Career; he was supposed to be killing tributes left and right, but he hadn't had the thrill of a kill in days.

And then suddenly, with no warning, the nest of trackerjackers flooded their camp and there was no thought except _run for your goddamn life._

So Marvel ran. He ran without thinking about anyone else but himself. Why should he worry about the others? They could make it out of there on their own.

He didn't escape without a few bites, but that was solved when Cato yelled, "To the lake!" At least someone had their thoughts straight.

It was only when he surfaced from the water and his vision cleared that he realized people were missing. Slowly making his way towards the shore where Clove lay, he asked, "Where's Lover Boy and Glimmer?" he looked around, expecting to see his blonde district partner and the depressing Lover Boy laying in the sand somewhere, waiting for Cato to wake up.

"Does it look like I care? Two less to worry about if you ask me." She said bitterly, and Marvel remembered that she practically foamed at mouth when Glimmer was around, and Lover Boy was as good as dead anyways.

It was only when he heard the cannon that he allowed himself the grim truth.

No, he didn't have to kill her; the Girl on Fire did that for him. Part of him was relieved, as he wouldn't be the one to kill her. The bigger part of him was devastated. He hadn't realized just how _easy_ it was to be killed by other tributes. And here he was, moping as he realized he spent their last few days giving her the silent treatment, hating every inch of her as soon as she gave Cato a flirty smile. It all seemed so silly now.

The thought of losing Glimmer so early in the Games only hardened his resolve to win. He was now more determined than ever to win. And he would even kill the Girl on Fire. She was now _his _kill. No one else. He'd kill anyone that got in his way.

That Girl on Fire was going to _die._


End file.
